Snapshots of Doctor Gordon
by Mistress Of The Macabre
Summary: When openly gay photographer Adam Faulkner goes to interview the illustrious, mysterious Doctor Gordon, who claims he's found the cure for cancer, he never expected love- or lust- to become part of the picture. And he certainly didn't expect to capture Lawrence's fetishes on camera. Contains traces of past Adam/Mallick, primarily A/L. Rated M with good reason.
1. An Interview to Remember

**Snapshots of Dr. Gordon**

**Chapter One.**

'**An Interview to Remember'**

I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering once again how the hell I'd managed to get myself into this mess. I mean, I was a professional photographer, not a journalist, so why the hell was I doing Mallick's job for him?

Because he was sick, that's why.

And why was it, no matter how hard I tried, I always looked messy? I mean, I knew I didn't own any slacks or suits or whatever, but I usually looked okay when I wore what I usually wear; jeans, baggy shirt, and a jacket. Not today, though. I looked the exact opposite of what I was meant to be doing today.

"Adam, I really am sorry about this." My ex-boyfriend appeared in the doorway. Usually, he took extreme measures to make himself as neat and immaculate as possible, but today, he was wearing baggy pyjamas. He was pale, and hell, he hadn't even brushed his hair!

After glaring at my reflection for a few more moments, I turned and gave him a smirk. "Like I said before, Mallick, its fine. I really don't care." Well, yeah, actually I _did, _but hey, a little white lie couldn't hurt, right?

Mallick returned my snarky smile. "You've always been a shitty liar, Adam," he said, eyes glittering maliciously, "We dated for two years, remember? I know you pretty damn well."

Sick or not, Mallick could be a real smartass when he wanted to be. "Shut up," I snapped, and then sighed. "I've never interviewed anyone before."

Mallick put a hand out as though to comfort me, and then seemed to think better of it. "You'll be fine," he murmured, and then sneezed. "It really won't be very hard. This Dr. Gordon guy is apparently a real cold fish, so most of the questions I've prepared for you require only a yes or no answer. You'll be done quicker than it'd take you to hit on the hottest guy there!" I rolled my eyes at that last part. Yeah. Mallick knew me pretty damn well. And I guess it wasn't entirely overrated, either. I mean, we _had _been dating for two years…

I exhaled noisily and made an attempt to tidy myself up. I knew that I didn't look any different to how I usually did, but I didn't feel _right _somehow. I had everything ready for today, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't shitting bricks. This guy I was interviewing, a Doctor Lawrence Gordon, was a brilliant surgeon who claimed he had the cure for cancer. Mallick was the head reporter at California Publishing, so it was only natural that our firm got the story. Unfortunately, with him sick, and with his second-in-command away on holiday, I was the go-to guy for this shit, despite not having any experience in reporting whatsoever.

And it was vital that we got the scoop (well, to Mallick, anyway), because he was trying to prove to his father that, despite being openly gay, he could hold a job.

Yeah. Mr. Scott senior was a total homophobe, and a dickhead at that. I myself was just trying to make a living doing what I enjoyed most- taking photographs.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, well, if this guy is such a 'cold fish', then maybe it's a good thing I'm going and not you."

Mallick rolled his eyes at me. Once upon a time, those blue eyes of his were magical. They still were, in a way, but not in the same way. "Adam, I'm fairly sure he's straight. He has an ex-wife, and a kid. Plus, isn't he like, fifty years old?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at him. "Whatever. I wasn't going to hit on him, anyway. He sounds too…professional."

"Just because your standards are so low," Mallick muttered, making to retreat back into his room.

I glared. "The way I remember it, your standards were pretty damn 'low', as well."

"Shouldn't you be on the road by now?" he asked dryly, gesturing towards my watch. I glanced at my watch.

"Son of a bitch!"

I was out the door in record time. I was so panicked that I was going to be late, that I even forgot how freaking scared I was.

Yeah.

Just another day in the life of Adam Faulkner.

**XxX**

If I'd felt out of place before, I was practically an alien now. Saint Eustace hospital was one of the most prestigious hospitals around, and you didn't need to go inside to know that. Privately owned, only some of the richest people could even make it inside- this definitely wasn't a place for your average American. I had trouble convincing the front desk guy that I was a reporter, and even more trouble telling him I was _the _reporter for interviewing Lawrence Gordon.

"You just don't look the part," front desk guy said firmly. I gave him my fiercest glare. He sighed. "Look, we were expecting a Mr. Mallick Scott, who clearly isn't you, so unless you can prove you're with his company, beat it, Mister."

I crossed my arms angrily. "Look, I know I'm not dressed as well as all you people are," I hissed, "But I'm Mr. Scott's assistant. He couldn't make it today, so he asked me to fill in for him."

Front desk guy stared at me.

"Look, I have all the paperwork," I growled, picking it out of my backpack and waving it around in my agitation. The guy snatched it out of my hand, and looked it over for a few moments, his expression stunned. His mouth thinned.

"Go ahead, Mr. Faulkner," he said stiffly. "Follow the signs to Doctor Gordon's office." Then he busied himself with the mounds of paperwork in front of him. Clearly a dismissal, I stole the paperwork back, and stalked away in the general direction he'd pointed in.

But, you know what? As soon as I was out of sight of shitty front desk guy, I got lost.

Like, I hadn't the _faintest _idea of where I was supposed to be.

Plus, I needed to pee.

Yeah.

Not exactly the best situation I had ever been in.

And to top it off, when I checked my watch, I was late for my meeting- naturally.

"Goddamn it," I growled, and then winced- my overly full bladder. Why the hell hadn't I gone at home? Oh, wait- because I'd been late. Well, not as late as I was now, but still…

I sighed. Today was clearly not my day.

But, you know what, _whatever. _Mallick had definitely known that I wasn't great at this sort of thing- hell, I hadn't ever interviewed anyone before! But he'd still sent me. Yeah, his other assistant was sick as well, but…still. He'd sent me, which probably meant that he had a lot of faith in me that I kind of lacked in myself. Yeah, Mallick was my ex-boyfriend, but he was still a good friend of mine.

I wasn't about to let him down because I needed to piss, and was lost.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my jacket for what felt like the hundredth time, and straightened my back. There was no noticeable change in my appearance, but I did feel better.

Maybe even good enough to ignore my aching bladder.

Peering up at the platinum signposts that were welded into every corner, I managed to deduce that if this Lawrence Gordon guy was anywhere, he'd be up the next corridor or so. I tried plastering on a smile, like what some of the other orderlies and nurses were doing (although, if you asked me, they were as fake as fake could _get), _and managed a pained grimace.

Goddamn it. My bladder…

But I was already late, and I couldn't let Mallick down by missing the meeting entirely, just because I needed to pee. I could just see myself possibly losing my job over that, and I needed the money, so screw it.

A couple of hundred silvery-grey signposts later, I found myself standing outside Doctor Gordon's office. It was smaller than I imagined- then again, with everything I'd seen today, I'd been half-hoping to see a solid gold door, or some weird shit like that. Actually, the closest thing to gold on his door was a platinum plaque, reading: _Doctor Lawrence Gordon, Oncologist._

So. This was the guy who'd apparently found a cure for cancer, huh?

Well, I guess it was time that I actually got to see this 'cold fishes' face.

Taking a deep breath, I rapped on his door twice, hoping against hope he wasn't like Hannibal Lecter or some shit. I didn't particularly feel like being eaten today. Plus, I still _really _needed to pee.

"Come in." His voice, if that was Gordon's, was soft.

Licking my suddenly dry lips, I eased the door open, and stepped into the room.

_Holy…shit. _


	2. The Rainbow After a Hurricane

**Snapshots of Doctor Gordon.**

**Chapter Two.**

'**The Rainbow after a Hurricane'**

Now, I'd never believed in gods or otherworldly beings like that, but in all honesty, as soon as I stepped into the room and got a good look at what I'd be dealing with, well…that all changed. Believer of God or not, I think my prayers were just answered.

I mean…

…Did I seriously have the right room? Was this seriously Doctor Lawrence Gordon?

_Seriously?! _

Because the man standing before me did _not _look like a brilliant surgeon, or anything remotely like how Mallick had described him. He'd said that this man was a 'cold fish', and 'fifty-something', so naturally, I expected some creepy, moody old guy. Think a ridiculous amount of wrinkles, crows' feet, rotting teeth, that 'old person smell'.

Yeah. Not real nice.

But…the man standing before me now, raising an eyebrow at my obviously stunned expression, was a _god. _If he was indeed fifty, he sure as hell didn't look it. He was only a little taller than me, with soft, wavy blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes that had a hypnotising quality about them, and his face…

_Whew._

He was…_hot. _Almost inhumanely so. Any thoughts concerning my aching bladder instantly vanished, as I tried to get myself used to the fact that this person was real, and that they were very much standing before me- and that I was the object of their attention.

As I stood there, admiring his godliness, it suddenly occurred to me how awkward this must be. I mean, how often did this guy get a scruffy-looking photographer barging into his office, only for him to stare at him?

Now, it's not like me to blush, but as soon as I became acquainted with that fact, I felt my cheeks grow hot. "H-hey," I stammered. "I'm Adam Faulkner- Mr. Scott's assistant?"

"Yes?"

My God, his voice…I was willing to bet that that voice had coerced many women out of their clothes and into his bed. If Mallick was to be believed, then he had done just that. I mean, he had a wife- an ex-wife- didn't he?

I swallowed tightly, and focused my attention to a patch of carpet. I could talk without embarrassing myself that way. "I'm here to interview you?"

Gordon suddenly smiled. "Ah, yes. I remember now. Mr. Scott phoned ahead to say that you'd be coming." He stepped back, and I tried not to trip over my own feet as I moved further into his room. He fell into step beside me, still smiling a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and I wondered suddenly if Mallick wasn't right about him being a 'cold fish', after all.

"Where do you want me, Mr. Faulkner?" he asked politely, spreading his arms out wide. Goddamn it, why did he have to dress so well?! "I assume this room is adequate?"

"Uh- yes," I choked, feeling mortified. I mean, I NEVER lost my cool when around a hot guy like Gordon- until now. I was completely at sea here- and I HATED it. Still, I had a job to do, and I'd promised Mallick that I'd get it done, no matter how shit it was. Aside from the paperwork I'd shown to Idiot Front Desk Guy, I also had Mallick's notes, (which also had the questions I was supposed to ask Gordon- what they were, I hadn't the faintest idea), a tripod, and extra film. Yeah, I was supposed to get photographs as well- ugh.

Well, at least I'd have some semblance of an excuse to stare at him.

I didn't realise that Gordon had sat down in his desk chair until he cleared his throat, looking faintly amused. "Would you care to have a seat?" he asked politely, gesturing towards the chair opposite him. Like everything else in this place, it was silvery-grey, and expensive-looking.

"Thanks," I muttered, face aflame again. I dug Mallick's notes out of my backpack, wishing that I'd brought something a little more professional-looking. I mean, I stuck out like a sore thumb here. Gordon was probably busting a lung from not laughing at me.

Gordon sat comfortably, the tips of his fingers touching. I tried not to look at how slender they were, and focused on my notes. My hands were trembling. My heart was racing a million miles per hour. I could feel sweat sliding down the back of my neck. I felt- and probably looked like- an absolute wreck.

"S-Sorry," I stammered, feeling like an idiot, "I'm not used to doing this…"

"Take all the time you need, Mr. Faulkner," he said, his voice- was it _husky? _Those vivid blue eyes bored into mine, and I wasn't lying when I said that I was literally melting inside. My God, those eyes…they- _he- _was so freaking _hot._

I swear he was still watching me while I fumbled with all the equipment; I unfolded the camera and the tripod, and proceeded to direct it in his general direction, shaking all the while. Gordon waited patiently- well, I hope to God he was- while I became increasingly flustered.

Finally, though, I had everything right.

When I plucked up enough courage to look back his way, he was smiling. _…Damn. _I immediately averted my eyes, determined not to get distracted. I mean, he was probably laughing at me inside. General hotness aside, I'd come here to do a job, not gawk at a surgeon.

"Did Mallick- Mr. Scott- tell you what this interview was for?"

He nodded. "Yes. To appear in the local newspaper, _The California Times, _and to present honour degrees to the graduate students."

I gaped at him. This was news to me. Then again, if Mallick had gone instead of me, he probably would have already known all this. Stupid Mallick and his stupid preparation. He could have taken the time to tell me all of this shit.

Gordon looked faintly amused, eyes glittering mischievously. "I'm assuming this is all new to you?" he asked, deadpan. Ugh. He was laughing at me. I felt the betraying rush of warmth to my cheeks, and I inwardly grimaced. This was _not _going the way I wanted it to.

Ignoring his jibe, I looked him straight in the eye, and decided not to procrastinate any longer with this shit. No guy had ever made me this nervous, and to say that I hated it would be putting it too lightly. "You're still quite young to have found the cure for cancer. Many people, many who are much older than you, have claimed to have the answer, and have failed. What makes you so sure that you have it right?"

He relaxed slightly, and gave me a winning smile that made me melt inside. "Well, Mr. Faulkner, I've been studying oncology- the study of cancer- for quite a few years now. As you may or may not know, I specialize in brain cancers, tumours, prominently. I have been studying these cancerous tissues, and have discovered that, whilst most are alarmingly aggressive, it is indeed possible to 'shrink' them, so to speak."

Wow. This guy obviously knew what he was talking about. I hadn't the faintest idea of what half those words even meant. Mallick, however, had obviously thought that the conversation might go this way, because he had a counter-question ready for me, written in his tedious scrawl. "People have tried to shrink cancerous flesh in the past, Dr. Gordon, and it's regrown over time. Some even say that it's even more aggressive the second time round. How can you prevent something like this happening?"

"I can't," he said bluntly. "Cancer is not entirely predictable, Mr. Faulkner. It can turn around and surprise me still. But I have discovered, with those cancers that have been 'shrunk', and disappeared, that they have a minimal chance of returning."

"And why is that?" I didn't bother adding the 'Doctor Gordon' at the end. Everyone (and I meant literally everyone, because I'd also set up a recorder beforehand and was recording the answers) would know who I was talking to.

Gordon's smile was mysterious now. "I have my ways, Mr. Faulkner."

Yep, Mallick had an answer for that one, too. "You're a very mysterious man, Dr. Gordon. What does your partner think about your achievements?"

His answering smile was cold. Shit. Did just I piss him off? "I have no current partner at the moment."

Damnit. Those freaking eyes of his! They made me feel insecure and paranoid, and that was _not _something I appreciated. I mean, I was usually confident as all hell when it came to guys I fancied, and I usually made the moves on them in my own particular style- but this guy, this Lawrence Gordon, made me feel so…vulnerable.

I let my eyes slide over the paper, and, without thinking, as per usual, I spoke without thinking. "Are you gay, Dr. Gordon?"

If I'd spent the extra time to look the freaking question over, I would have noticed the goddamn evil smiley face that had been inked in next to that stupid freaking question.

Silence. I was met with absolute silence. If I'd had any chance with Gordon before this, it was well and truly gone now. How the hell could I have said something so stupid?! Mentally, I kicked myself. Beat the shit out of myself, even. I mean…_did I have to say that?!_

If I had the chance to run out of that room, believe me, I would have.

He, understandably, looked shocked. Then he somehow managed to compose himself. My God, did this man have no faults? That same smile slid right back on his face, and his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, like he was laughing. "That's a rather personal question, don't you think, Mr. Faulkner?"

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered. "It's what's written here…"

He raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought it was mere curiosity," he drawled, his voice soft, husky- _seductive, _even. I swear, if I wasn't sitting underneath a desk I would have floated right off the floor. That freaking voice…

Well, Lawrence Gordon wasn't one for holding grudges against people who asked stupid questions, it seemed. The interview went fine after that, with me asking Mallick's standard questions (I took the time to read over each one carefully, after that incident with the smiley face- screw Mallick and his sick sense of humour), and Gordon answering them politely, his eyes never once leaving mine.

All too soon, it was time to leave. Once everything was packed away, I stood up awkwardly. Gordon stood up as well. "Until next time," he whispered quietly, clasping my hand in both of his.

Well. I promptly went red. My throat worked. Sweat dripped down my neck. I honestly had to learn to control my 'talking without thinking' problem, because I did something incredibly stupid then.

I put myself out there, in front of this beautiful, godlike creature.

"When?" I croaked, and as soon as the words were out, I instantly regretted it.

Lawrence, however, didn't. "Are you free tomorrow?" he asked quietly.

Hmm. Well. Yeah, I guess I was. I nodded meekly.

"Well," he said briskly, shooing me out the door, "Coffee at two?"

Absolutely floored and confused as to what was going on, I nodded again.

I walked- no, _floated- _out of Saint Eustace Hospital, and more or less floated home.

I…

…_I had a date with Lawrence Gordon. _


	3. The Audacity of Dr Gordon!

**Snapshots of Doctor Gordon.**

**Chapter Three.**

'**The Audacity of Doctor Gordon!'**

Mallick was hopping with agitation when I finally arrived home, despite the cold. Hell, he'd even gotten dressed- and he was onto me the second I dumped my stuff on the ground and shut the door.

"How did it go?!" he demanded hoarsely. His eyes were kind of red, and from how nasal he sounded, he'd probably been sneezing a lot. Though he was dressed and managed to look otherwise immaculate in a dress shirt and jeans, there was still a sheet of sweat on his forehead, and his hair was sticking in all directions. I attempted to push past him, but he wasn't having any of that. He kept me firmly pinned against the door. I dimly remembered the few occasions, back when we'd been dating, when he'd held me hostage against the door and pretty much had his way with me.

This time, though, it was anything but romantic. Agitation was practically rolling off of him in waves!

Well, it wasn't hard to see where the impatient businessman persona came from- he really was just like his father that way.

I yawned, which was exactly the opposite of how I felt. Inside, I was doing somersaults. Had Lawrence been serious about meeting up for coffee? Or had he just been messing with me? Part of me hoped- _prayed- _that he'd been serious, but at the same time, I was cautious. Although I was open about my sexuality, once I usually messed up the chatting up, they never went out with me. It was kind of weird, given that I'd messed up so many times during the interview, that he'd show any kind of interest in me at all. It kind of felt too good to be true…

"Aw, yeah," I said casually, somehow managing to the 'everything is a-okay' façade off, "It went okay."

Mallick raised an eyebrow. "Just okay?" he asked. "I know you too damn well, Adam. It looks like it went a little better than 'okay'."

I groaned. "I'll tell you all about it, if you actually let me get past the front door." I gave him a lopsided grin to show that I wasn't being entirely serious. He smiled a little in return, too anxious to give me his usual shit-eating grin.

"Sorry," he muttered. I swept past him, ran a hand through my hair, and collapsed on the couch. There were several packets of chips there, as well as a few DVD cases. Looks like my roommate had treated himself to vegging out today. Uh, wow.

My roommate in question sat down beside me, snuffling a little. "What did you think of the place?" he asked. "I know it's nothing like you're used to, but I thought you'd like a change of scenery."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Sure, if going to another planet can be called 'a change of scenery.'"

"That different, huh?"

I groaned. "You could say that. My God, Mallick, everyone was in a suit- even the chicks! And most of the personnel were too damn up themselves to ever be _worth _hitting on."

"I'm sure that was a terrible experience for you," he said dryly, rolling his eyes. "Hey, wait- you said _most _of the personnel. Was there an exception to the rule?"

I flushed. "Some of them were pretty hot, so what?" I snapped, and tugged the tape recorder out of my pocket. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

He held his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Sure."

I rewound the recorder that I'd taped my conversation with Lawrence Gordon with, and pressed play. I felt my throat tighten up as I heard my voice issuing out of the recorder. Damn it. This was so _embarrassing. _It was painfully obvious, especially to Mallick, who knew me so well, how I felt. You could _hear _the barely concealed lust in my voice, the stuttering and mumbling as I tried my best to stick to the script and not stare at him. Mallick's face went from pale and intense to pale and barely holding back a laugh.

I glared at him. "This isn't funny, Mallick."

"On the contrary," he choked, holding his sides and wheezing unattractively, "This is the funniest thing I've ever heard!" He keeled over on the couch, still choking and wheezing with laughter.

I felt my face grow red. I mean, I couldn't help it. Lawrence Gordon was so _hot…_if Mallick had gone instead of me, he'd be the same! I know he would! That guy was sex on a stick- he could the straightest guy in the world (whom, I knew, definitely wasn't me) gay. I was surprised he didn't have people crawling all over him! Then again, I'd only ever seen him in an office setting. Maybe he really did have people crawling all over him…

That thought did nothing to make me feel better. In fact, my heart sank. What if all this was just a joke? I mean, why would someone like him be interested in someone like me? I was too…grungy. And, well, openly gay.

I sulked on my part of the couch while Mallick listened to the rest of the tape, still giggling softly to himself. Finally, painfully, the final part- the part that I forgot to get rid of- where I asked Gordon _'When?'. _

Mallick's face became suddenly serious, as he listened to Gordon's reply: _'Are you free tomorrow?' _

Silence on my part. I guessed that was where I nodded, too dumbstruck to say anything else. _'Well, then. Coffee at two?' _And the tape ended meekly at that. I deliberately averted my eyes from Mallick. I mean, we'd broken up and all, but I think that it still bothered him a bit when I showed interest in other guys. When we'd been dating, he'd been the jealous, protective type- maybe he just had that ingrained in his nature or something. But I still didn't really want to find out how he felt.

"Adam." His voice was calm enough, demanding me to look at him. I met his awesome blue eyes- they weren't as awesome as Gordon's, though- and he grinned at me. "Oh my God."

"What?" I snapped, not wanting to endure any more of his quips about my dating life. He held his hands up in a silent gesture of surrender.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything," he said, and grinned again. "Looks like someone's getting lucky, eh?"

I couldn't not smile. Mallick's shit-eating grin was contagious. I punched him lightly in the arm. "Maybe, yeah."

"I've never seen you so affected by someone!" Mallick exclaimed delightedly. "Stuttering, asking stupid questions, definitely not on form…this Lawrence guy must be quite something."

_Uh-oh. Not the famous Mallick Scott 'what kind of guy are you chasing after now?' interrogation. _

But somehow, I thought that this would be a little different. Mallick seemed genuinely interested in what I thought about Gordon, no snide remarks or anything, and I relaxed slightly. That wasn't to say that Mallick's interest wasn't unjustified or anything. If either of us dated, we had to be okay with the fact that there might possibly be some serious action going on in our apartment- so one of us 'went out' for the night while the other one got laid. Pretty weird, yeah I know, but that was how it worked. That way, we avoided any awkward situations where one walks in on the other doing something…well, let's just say that's better to be safe than sorry, you know?

I felt my lips quirk into a smile. Funny, it used to be the same smile I got whenever I saw Mallick. Could I have fallen for Lawrence that quickly…?

Mallick roared with laughter. "Wow, he must be sex on a stick! Adam, I've never seen you blush or smile so hard!" And he was off again, laughing at my good fortune. I didn't let myself get angry. I knew he meant well. It usually took me a couple of dates (and, a couple of times in bed…) to really take to a guy. Hell, I met Mallick at a bar, both of us drunk as skunks. One thing led to another and…well, we dated for a long time. So me falling for Lawrence (it felt so damned WEIRD even just thinking that!) so quickly was…well, weird. Weird but good, if that made any sense.

"He sure is something," I mumbled, unable to keep the grin off my face. Mallick grinned along with me, chuckling.

"I bet he is! I haven't seen you this happy since…" he trailed off, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"I haven't been this happy in a while," I pointed out, not wanting Mallick to feel bad, "And, to be honest, it feels kinda weird, you know?"

He nodded agreement. "So how hot is this guy?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested. That was one of the reasons why I still lived with Mallick- he was so accepting and understanding…

I sighed dreamily, and then caught myself, flushing furiously. It wasn't like me to do _that. _Usually I was the one making people all dreamy and shit, not the other way around! "Oh, Mallick, he's out of this world! So hot…" I then caught myself again, trying not to fawn over him for Mallick's sanity, "But doesn't it seem bizarre that he's interested in _me?" _

"Not really," Mallick murmured, and started to get up. "He said coffee at two, right? Like, tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Well, don't stress about it now. Try and catch some rest. He'll find a way to contact you tomorrow, if he really means it." Conversation over. It wasn't because Mallick was getting tired of me- he was just tired in general. Bags under his eyes, runny nose…he was already up way past his limit when he was sick. He usually went to bed early. But he'd obviously wanted to see how my interview had went, so he'd waited up for me. I smiled.

"Yeah, makes sense." But I knew I wouldn't be able to forget about it that easily. My mind was already working overtime, worrying about things like clothes, what I should say, whether he'd even really contact me, was this all a joke, etc, etc.

So, when I slipped into bed five minutes later, I wasn't really expecting to catch any shuteye.

And for once, I was right.

**XxX**

I awoke the next morning with the sound of Mallick singing along to the radio. He does that sometimes. When he's in a really good mood, he sometimes turns on the radio and starts roaring along with it. He can't sing for shit, but neither can I, and we both have a great time pissing off our neighbours. Feeling a grin slide onto my face, I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen.

Sure enough, Mallick was in full swing. I didn't have the slightest idea what song was on, but he butchered it so horribly that I couldn't refrain myself from bursting into laughter.

The sight was almost enough to make me forget my worries about Lawrence.

_Almost._

"You're a great singer," I said dryly, rolling my eyes. Mallick pretended to look insulted.

"Hey, I'm better than you," he retorted over a cup of orange juice. He obviously felt better; it looked like he was even getting ready for work. My God!

I gave him the finger, and busied myself with making breakfast, my thoughts on Lawrence still. I still couldn't get over the very likely possibility that this was all a joke…and yet I was hoping, no, _praying, _that it wasn't.

Mallick noticed my sudden drop in enthusiasm, and he frowned. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I muttered, pouring way too much milk into my cereal. I planned on eating my sorrows away with shitty cereal.

"Bullshit." Mallick could read me like a book. "Adam, you still worrying about Lawrence? He said he'd contact you, didn't he?"

Well…actually, he didn't say anything of the sort. My heart sunk that little bit further. "Sure," I lied.

"Well, most people don't go back on their word like that. If he said he'd contact you, then he will." He was very positive about the situation, and, although I probably didn't show it, it made me feel a hell of a lot better about myself.

"Okay."

While I was eating, though, I crossed my fingers, just to be safe.

**XxX**

It was one-thirty when the phone rang. Startled out of my sullen stupor, I snatched at the phone, almost knocked it over, and grabbed it again. Mallick was at work; I was having the day off, bosses' (Mallick's) orders. "Hello?" I mumbled into the phone.

"Mr. Faulkner." The voice was cool. Husky. And it totally belonged to someone I knew.

"Dr. Gordon?!" I spluttered. Holy shit, was he actually talking to me over the phone?! This didn't feel real…

Luckily, he sounded amused. "Yes, Mr. Faulkner, it's me. I was wondering if you were still available for coffee."

"I- uh- sure!" I exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically.

"Great," he said, sounding like he genuinely meant it, "Shall we meet at Josephine's?" Despite the name, Josephine's was a famous coffee shop/restaurant. It was like Starbucks on drugs. Very well-to-do. And certainly not a place I'd ordinarily go. Still…

"Sure," I mumbled. "At two, right?"

Lawrence laughed. "Well, unless you'd prefer a candlelit dinner." His voice was velvety, and held much sensual promise. I practically shivered. My God…

"No," I squeaked, "No, two is fine."

A pause. "I'll see you then, Mr. Faulkner," he whispered- was he deliberately _trying _to give me a boner?

He hung up, and I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. Then it hit me. It was one thirty-five. I had twenty-five minutes to get ready and meet him there.

_Crap._


End file.
